


Of Helmets and Horses

by RedglareVantas (xanemarths)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Crossover, Gondorian!Marco, I don't even know how to tag this I'm just gonna, Lord Of The Rings AU, M/M, Rohirrim!Jean, they don't take the place of anyone they're just there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanemarths/pseuds/RedglareVantas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean thinks that the Fountain Guard helmet is stupid and unnecessary. Marco disagrees.<br/>In the quiet after the Siege of Gondor and the Battle of the Black Gate, they learn more about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Helmets and Horses

**Author's Note:**

> So Ponyboy and I have been working on AU ideas, and one of the ones I'm most fond of is Lord of the Rings. I just marathoned the entire series last week and saw all the special features....
> 
> And the fountain guard helmet.
> 
> Do not even get me started that is THE most RIDICULOUS thing in existence.
> 
> Of course, it was decided for several reasons that Marco should be in Gondor, and king's guard/fountain guard- notably, his desire to be Military Police in the anime. I initially told Ponyboy this with sad intentions, but then it kind of spiraled out of control and led to what you see here. So thanks a lot for that.

"I am never getting used to this damn city," murmured a man in red, glancing suspiciously up and down the cluttered and winding streets, an endless maze that anyone not from the place could easily lose themselves in. His hazel eyes were narrow, with what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his face. Next to him on his left, a slightly taller man laughed, reaching across his body to pat the light brown hair on the top of his head. The side with the missing arm bumped against him, briefly, before he spoke. "Don't worry, Jean. We're only staying in Gondor until the king's coronation, and I'm officially dismissed from service. Then we can go and live anywhere in Rohan you want. It would be good for me to have a change."

There was a low grumble from Jean, as his arm wrapped around the other man's waist. "I still don't see how you can stand Minas Tirith, Marco."

Marco glanced around, his usual smile melting off his face and turning into a frown as he looked at the streets, where there was still rubble from the battle with Mordor, not yet cleared away. "After this... I don't think I can."

Silence for a moment, before Jean grabbed Marco's face in both of his hands, thumbs running gently over his face, over the freckles and especially gentle over the still raw skin on the right side of his face. "Don't think about it. Come on. Let's start packing."

They continued on, off to the garrison, off to where Marco lived. There wasn't much to be packed- not because Marco didn't have the money, but because he was too simple to own much. Vaguely Jean thought of what he'd buy Marco with the money he had- maybe something properly tailored to suit the missing arm, so he didn't have to tie off every right sleeve anymore - before he saw the helmet on the mantle.

And he lost it. 

"Wh- what's so funny?" The Gondorian asked, his head tilting slightly in confusion as Jean doubled over. "It's just- it's- I can't believe- _THE WINGS_!"

With that, he snorted, sinking to his knees, with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Marco frowned, looking slightly hurt. "They're traditional. Everybody in the king's guard wears them."

Jean finally straightened up, still laughing, but relaxing. "I thought the normal helmets were embarrassing... Can't imagine why you'd want that abomination."

"It's the most respected job there is."

"You guard... a tree..."

Again, Jean began laughing as hard as he could. "How did you ever get into battle with that anyway?"

At this, Marco looked down, strangely quiet. The longer he stayed quiet, the less Jean laughed. "I wasn't supposed to."

There was another long silence before Marco finally spoke again. “We weren’t supposed to break off from guarding the tree. That was our duty, and to protect the king when he came. But when they started calling out the men to fight… I couldn’t stay behind to see everyone die.”

His remaining eye was wide in horror, hand unconsciously reaching to grab the side with the missing arm. “I tried to help evacuate- goodness knows why we didn’t do it before, there was no way the gates could hold against _that_. Even then, I didn’t get far in helping before they breached the city. There were so many… I knew how to fight, but I was so rusty at it, I’d probably have died by some orc if they hadn’t launched that boulder.” The huge stone that had crushed his right side and nearly killed him, the stone Jean found him almost buried under. “I’m surprised they didn’t realize I was still alive. But. Then you found me, and I still don’t remember much until I woke in the Houses of Healing and saw you watching me.”

For a moment longer, he remained somber, sinking onto his bed, and Jean wondered if he should disturb him. Finally Marco looked back up, smiling softly. “But in the end, I can’t regret it. I helped people, a bit. And if I hadn’t… Well, I wouldn’t have met you.”

It was such a sweet, touching statement, and Jean finally relaxed into a smile, coming to sit next to him, patting his head so he’d know who it was on his right even if he couldn’t see. There was some form of comfort in this to Marco, who seemed to like that no one else could blindside him if they stayed like that.  
“Besides, at least I don’t pretend I’m a horse.”

Now it was Jean who seemed offended, turning shades of red and looking indignantly at Marco. “What, like you _didn't_ as a child?”

Marco burst out laughing, covering his mouth as he tried to stop. “Jean, we aren’t Rohan. Shadowfax was rare enough. Most of the horses went with Faramir’s guard, and. Only one came back. We aren’t horse people.”

“I can count all the horses here on my fingers.”

“I’m sure you could.”

“And name them all, too.”

“Please don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“You really don’t have to do that, no. And there weren’t enough horses to ever really get into pretending to be one.”

For a moment, everything was quiet again, before Jean heaved a sigh and turned away slightly. “Look. There’s a reason Rohirrim are called horse people. We fucking love our horses so much. They come first, before the people sometimes, even. And when I was younger, the food they had in the stables for the horses was top quality - better than the food we got, sometimes. So I just snuck in and pretended to be a horse so I could steal their dinner, all right? The habit stuck.”

There was another silence, before “I am so sorry I didn’t know oh my goodness-”

“If I tell you I was being morbid just to get a reaction out of you, will you shut up?” Jean asked, turning to look at Marco dead in the eye. Marco stared back evenly. “I’d probably punch you.”  
“You wouldn’t have it in you- OW!”

Suddenly the Rohirrim was busy rubbing his shoulder, scowling at the other man. “Okay, fine. Just don’t bring it up, okay? I don’t like thinking about it, and I can’t take another horse joke at my expense.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you packed. Yes, we’re taking the damn helmet. I want to see you in it when I’m in a bad mood so I can laugh.”

“....Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“That… was… sarcastic, Jean….”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Skype conversation:
> 
> [7/26/2014 5:26:34 PM] Radglare: And then he has to wear the helmet later and it's that bigass thing with the white wings out to the sides and Jean just  
> [7/26/2014 5:26:39 PM] Radglare: Looses it  
> [7/26/2014 5:27:25 PM] silver hte hrodgeherg: yesssss yesyes  
> [7/26/2014 5:28:26 PM] Radglare: "STOP LAUGHING IT'S CEREMONIAL AND A VERY RESPECTED POSITION"  
> "YOU GUARD A TREE"  
> [7/26/2014 5:29:11 PM] silver hte hrodgeherg: "WELL AT LEAST THE TREE DOESNT MAKE RUDE COMMENTS"  
> [7/26/2014 5:29:40 PM] Radglare: Y E S  
> [7/26/2014 5:30:23 PM] Radglare: "WHAT DO YOU DO BACK AT HOME WHEN YOU'RE OFF DUTY PRETEND YOU'RE ONE OF THE HORSES"  
> [7/26/2014 5:34:01 PM] silver hte hrodgeherg: "N-NOT ALL THE TIME"  
> [7/26/2014 5:34:48 PM] Radglare: "....I was joking about that  
> The answer to a question I never asked."  
> [7/26/2014 5:36:43 PM] silver hte hrodgeherg: "I... Did you ever... as a kid... pretend to be horses...?" or he gets all fucking dark like, "...Sometimes, what the horses had to eat was better than what my family could afford. So, heheh, I snuck inside the stables, as a kid, and grabbed whatever was edible for myself and my mother..."  
> [7/26/2014 5:38:43 PM] Radglare: If it's the darker one Marco is instantly sad like oh no I'm so sorry  
> Feeds Jean  
> For less serious one it's like  
> "I  
> How many horses have you seen in Gondor"  
> [7/26/2014 5:39:01 PM] Radglare: Because I think horses were mentioned as rarer there  
> [7/26/2014 5:42:48 PM] silver hte hrodgeherg: "All of them; I could count them all, at least the tame ones we have, on my fingers. I could name each one if you'd like~"  
> [7/26/2014 5:45:34 PM] Radglare: "...there aren't enough that I really got into pretending to be a horse. But sure."  
> Listens to a ton of horses  
> Jean how even  
> He just kind of tunes out after a while it's too much


End file.
